The World After Bullets

[McLovin]

It is the year 2050. The world has been thrown into chaos. The world has almost run out of gunpowder, petroleum, and mostly every kind of explosive base. So that means that there are barely no bullets, bombs, missiles, or vehicles left in the world, except those that are electric. The worlds armies have reverted to swords, bows and arrows, and the like, ever since a group of mercenaries called the Helpers At Large Organization, or HALO for short, stole most of the worlds modern weapons. There is help though a crack team of mercenaries led by David "McLovin" Bloomfield. They are the Brothers oF Mercenaries, or BFM, for short and they are are only hope!

Here is my character:

Name: David Kelly Bloomfield
Nickname: McLovin
Rank: General
Age: 35
Specialty: Tactics, Weapons Making, Sword Fighting, Martial Arts, and Archery.
Background: Although the exact date of his birth is something only know to him we do know that he was born in 2015. He was one of the few that was smart enough to know that we would run out of guns and that a fighting force would be needed. So he joined the U.S. Marines, and trained in almost every weapon he could get his hands on. Once he attained the rank of general he started to horde weapons for later use. He has a slightly cocky and arrogant nature and relies on his friends to keep him in check.

I need some more squad members and some enemies.

[·WídgêT·]

I can't make up parts of the plot on the fly, but I would like to be a character

Here is a "fake" bio:

Name: Andy
Nickname: Widget
Rank: Corporal
Age: 27
Specialties: Technology, Vehicle Operations, Aerial Assault
Background: Born Andrew Joseph to a family whose surname has been wiped off of the records, Andy was born on March 11th, 2023. It was quite evident from the time of his birth that he was incredibly intuitive and smart. Now in his late twenties, he become the witty and slightly sarcastic engineer for BFM. Basically, he is the tech nerd of the team. Always interested in aeronautics, he was able to design planes that ran on a milk engine, but is currently working on SCOBs (Sharp Combat Object Bombs) to equip it with. He is usually in his study tinkering with new ideas, but that does not mean he is anti-social.

[Bowser]

I'll give this a go...

First, My character!

Name: Fredrick (prefers to be called fred)
Nickname: Bowser
Rank: Private
Age: 21
Specialities: Bow-master, Hand to had combat expert, Stealth, and swordmanship.
Background: Born in New York, all he ever remember is the orphanage where he grew up. He had no recolection of his home nor his parents. He has dreamed of learning the ways of the Ninja's of old, a skill that is growing ever important as the modern weapons diminish. He is 6'1, sandy hair, blue eyes, and is rather shy until a fight comes his way.

[Bowser]

Now lets kick this thing off!

Location of mercenary base: Under New York (No one else said where, so I made one up.)


Fred stared out across the broken landscape. The smashed and crumbled towers of his hometown of new York. The rubble that littered the streets, along with the bodies of the fallen members if the HALO league that had been killed in the previous battle.
"At least have the respect to bury our dead." Fred thought angrily. He had lost friends here today. Al-Thani, Zack, Harold.... He shook the memories out of his mind. he was a soldier, he couldn't dwell on these things.
"Get down from there!" A voice hissed from below him. Startled out of his thoughts, Fred turned to greet his foe. He drew his sword, swishing it through the air into his attacking position. It was only then that he realized his mistake. Standing there was General David Bloomfield, his commanding officer. Ashamed that he hadn't recognized his officers voice, he slid his sword into it's sheath, his face flushed with embarrasment.
"I'm sorry sir... you... Startled me, you see-"
"I don't want explanations!" Growled David. "I want you in the briefing room at 1300 hours!" His face softened. "We have a mission for you." Drawing himself up again, he boomed at Fred: "And you won't be going on it if you get shot by one of them HALO's freaks."
As he spoke, a bullet whizzed through the air.
"Get down!" David yelled, as he heard the clack of another bullet being wracked into a gun's grim chamber. In his effort to comply, Fred beat a ungainly retreat, topped off with him falling through the secret hatch in which the General was standing. He heard the hatch utter a mournful squeak as David closed it. Sighing, he grunted, rose from is sprawled position, and followed the General to the briefing room.

[BFM_Lemming]

hey all ...mind if I join?

[Bowser]

I think it's safe to say you can.

[McLovin]

sorry i havent being rping my girlfriends, work, school, and my parents divorce is pressing. And Bowser do you know anything about Zoids? If so I would like to send you my app to a Zoids RPG for checking and if you dont can you do some spelling and grammar?

[Bowser]

I don't know anything about Zoids, but I will be happy to do a bit of spell check.

[·WídgêT·]

Let's continue the story shall we?

The walk to the briefing room was a long one for Fred, still dwelling on the deaths of his friends in the battle. The somewhat angry expression on General David's face wasn't making it any better for him as the two soldiers marched toward the most commonly used room in the underground base. He tried to start some light conversation with the commanding officer, but to no avail. His attempts at lightening the mood were futile, realizing the General was focused only on the task at hand.
The room itself wasn't as inviting as you might think. The poorly-lit room had a consistently eerie mood to it; no one really enjoyed being in it, yet there were always people there. Maybe it was to escape the boredom of the soldiers' personal cabins, which were no bigger than a standard walk-in closet. Whatever the reason, today was no different. As the General and Fred walked in, a few soldiers were sitting at the table in the far corner chatting about something that they couldn't hear. Directly to the right of the main door, Corporal Andy was sleeping, the smallest amount of drool dripping from his mouth. He was sitting at his desk, his head resting on some new designs he just recently thought of.
"Wake up, Midget!" ordered the General, still somewhat agitated from the days events.
Andy shook, gave a quick snort, and woke up, startled as usual.
"With the utmost respect, General...for the last time...it's Widget!" That was his common reply to that nickname, even if it was meant to be a joke.
"I don't care what your name is, I'm sure your new designs don't include wet smudges on them."
Widget looked down at his replacement pillow he once called designs, and threw them off the table, somewhat embarrassed. The soldiers at the other table pointed and laughed. Apparently their conversation revolved around the Corporal's nap as well.
The General shouted at them next, "You maggots be quiet over there too! He's ten times as smart as all 5 of you combined."
The soldiers quickly bit their tongues and listened up.
"Ok men, I already mentioned this briefly to Fred here, but I want the rest of you to hear this too. Here's the situation..."

Sub-Note: First ever time doing this, hope it comes out ok